Sheldor the Conqueror: Battle-Mage and Fighter-For-Hire
by Darkly Dreaming
Summary: Sheldor the Conqueror, warrior-mage, is hired to help win a war between two small kingdoms. However, curiosity leads him down a different path. Possibly toward love? T to be safe.


A/N: I'm taking a lot of inspiration for this from SpaceAnJL. I hope you don't mind, dear. Not exaclty the Brothers Grimmchester, but I hope you like it regardless. ;)

* * *

People would say Sheldor the Conqueror was a warrior-mage-for-hire. He held no allegiance to anyone but himself and whoever paid him.

In truth, Sheldor was a warrior-mage-for-fun. He took payment, of course, but he fought because he was bored.

All day every day spent in his castle poking a staff at the cosmos, daring it to poke back, with only the company of his servants to keep him from going mad.

Kings called on him when they were close to losing a war, but only as a last resort. His name and reputation as The Conqueror was widespread. No one wanted to owe him a favor if they couldn't pay.

And he didn't fight for just anyone. Only those he deemed fit to continue ruling. If one kingdom Sheldor disapproved of asked for assistance he would go so far as to lend his services to the opposing army, out of spite.

Everyone knew that once Sheldor the Conqueror was set as your opponent you would not leave the battlefield alive. Sometimes not even your body would be left. He was indestructible and extremely powerful.

So when the king of a neighboring land rode up to his front gate, surrounded by cavalry, Sheldon asked questions. Who were they fighting? How long had they been at war? What were your/their reasons for declaring said war?

The King of Dena's Pass had made a deal with Wyte, barbarian King of Angelan, two years ago that their children would wed and merge their cultures. Almost a year ago barbarian princess Penelope had come of age and decided she didn't want to be chained to a pompous prince who thought she should be nothing more than a trophy wife. She snuck into the castle under the guise of a Companion (classier than a whore, but only in name) and slit the son's throat. She even left a calling card so they knew it was she; a single Pennyblossom on the pillow next to his head, as red as the blood spilled. It was a breed of flower indigenous to only Angelan, named after the beautiful princess. The King of Den's Pass declared war the next day. They'd been fighting for ten months and they were losing.

"That's not a very good reason to go to war," Sheldor frowned. "But I harbor no love for the barbarians. I will fight for you." He held his gloved hand out and when the king took it Sheldor added, "However, if I am in danger of serious harm or capture, I will retreat. I fight not out of loyalty, but for myself."

The king nodded. "Yes, of course. I understand. I cannot express my thanks enough, but I hope to start with payment." A guard handed him a large sack of gold coins. Judging by the size of the bag it was about 2,000 gold.

"Very well," said Sheldor. He beckoned to his right hand man (only dubbed thusly for lack of a more appropriate job). "Lendall, take this to my vault. If even one coin is gone...I shall know."

Twenty minutes later he was cloaked, armored, armed, and mounting his horse. He was an impressive figure in all black leather, forgoing a helmet in favor of a clear field of vision.

The king's cavalry were skittish and refused to go near Sheldor's steed, and once he turned broadside the riders understood why; Sheldor commanded a reanimated horse. It was decided that he would ride behind.

They arrived mid-battle, a fact that alarmed the king and his men, as it was the middle of the night, but didn't seem to surprise Sheldor.

"Barbarians are a rowdy bunch," he called out. "You should have expected something along these lines. They take any advantage they can. A king departing with a handfull of cavalry would be the perfect advantage for a surprise attack." He surveyed the battle while the king's men rode in. "I suggest, your highness, that if you wish to live through this battle...stay behind. Command from the sidelines, but do not flee." Sheldor raised an eyebrow. "You would not wish to be remembered as a coward." And with that, Sheldor rode to battle.

He dismounted swiftly, as he disliked fighting on horseback, and plunged his longsword into the first barbarian he saw. Eyes widened on both sides, realization dawning that _The Conqueror_ was there. The men of Den's Pass fought with renewed vigor, confident in their victory now.

He cast a spell and a large ball of light burst into life five feet above his head. Normally he wouldn't do anything of the sort, but he didn't mind making a target of himself. His armor, both physical and magical, would protect him from projectiles and he could fight off anyone looking to overpower him. Clad in full black as he was, even with the lumination he was still hard to see at night.

Suddenly there was a break in the clouds and the barbarians stopped fighting. Most of them turned and ran, but it didn't look like a retreat. Curious, Sheldor manipulated the light to a wide, thin disc and sent it to observe the few warriors who'd stayed. There were only five of them. He could wipe them out with a single spell. But he stayed his hand, still curious. And his curiousity drove him, more than anything.

Sheldor thought he knew most of what the universe held, and strived to know the rest. It was why he became a mage. So when he was suddenly faced with five wolves he was understandably torn between fear of the unknown and curiosity to find out what it was, what made it tick.

And he was understandably tackled from behind by a sixth wolf he had failed to account for.

Sheldor quickly gathered his scattered wits and threw the wolf off, casting a binding spell on the creature.

"So the legend is true," Sheldor mused. "There are men in Angelan who shift to wolves in the moonlight." Being on the outskirts of the battle now, he slowly circled his catch, categorizing. It was bigger than a normal wolf, but had a look of intelligence in its eyes. And yet this one was slightly smaller than the other five now decimating the army he fought for. "Interesting. I wonder..." Sheldor muttered a wind spell, moving the clouds to cover the moon again. When the warrior didn't turn back, Sheldor smirked, eyes sparkling. "Very interesting. It appears the moon is just a catalyst. Once you're in this form the moon no longer controls you." He bent to look the creature in the eye. "You are a fascinating race. And beautiful, I might add. No true wolf could hold a candle to this form." He smiled, and for the first time in a long time Sheldor the Conqueror looked almost childish. "I would love to study you, but that would be rude." Sheldor straightened to his full height. "I will let you go on one condition. Provided you are able, I would like you to transform back to human and tell me your name. I have met a werewolf in battle today, and that is something to remember." He lifted his hand to cancel the binding spell and added, "If you are unable to transform back at will, and must therefor wait a set amount of time for the wolf to run its course...you know where to find me. I promise I will not harm you."

He lifted the spell and looked around the battlefield. The army he worked for was losing in the face of this new development. "Oh well," Sheldor lamented. "It was an asinine reason to go to war in the first place. If a woman does not wish to marry someone, then she shouldn't. It's tantamount to slavery, albeit with better living conditions."

He turned to look back at the wolf, but it was gone. _Damn. There's an opportunity lost._

Sheldor found his reanimated steed (the only living being he had kept under the spell once learned) and rode back to his dark castle. As the front gate opened to admit him he felt a presence behind him. The wolf from before. In the light of the gate sconces he could see it was very light-colored. The human must be blonde. And its gold eyes were flecked with green. He smiled.

"I see you've accepted my offer," said Sheldor. "I can honestly say I am surprised. And that doesn't happen often. I take it from your form that you, in fact, cannot change at will?"

The wolf gave what could only be described as a smirk, and then suddenly it was shedding rapidly, transforming. In no time at all a human female kneeled before him, shielding her naked body from him.

"What kind of royal would I be if I couldn't change my form at will?" she teased.

"You're a woman!" Sheldor exclaimed. "Of course. That would explain the size difference. You were smaller than the other wolf warriors." He removed his cloak and threw it to her. "Here. You must be cold without your fur."

"Thank you," the she-wolf said. "Most men would rather stare at me than clothe me. As I thought on the battlefield, you are different." She smirked. "I'm Penelope."

An eyebrow twitched. "Princess Penelope?" he asked. "I knew the barbarians had no qualms about letting women fight, but I did not know they allowed female royals in the army."

Penelope grinned. "They don't. Father was furious when he saw me on the battlefield, but since it was a war fought because of me I thought that I should fight in it too."

Sheldor nodded, understanding the need to fight for what you believe in. In her case, her freedom to choose a mate. "Well, I now know your name, Princess Penelope the werewolf. Thank you. You fought well, if only for a short time." He chuckled. "You even caught me by surprise. Well done."

After giving his horse orders to go back to the stable, he gestured to Penelope. "Come in. I'm sure someone can find you appropriate clothing, and it is still night. Rest here and be on your way tomorrow."

~*DD*~*DD*~*DD*~

Sheldor sat at the head of the banquet table when Penelope entered, dressed in trousers and a tunic belted at the waist. Judging by the way the trousers were rolled at the ankles, they were his. Her blonde hair was braided in a way that made it look like a golden crown. Her emerald eyes were striking.

"I left your cloak on your bed," she said when she was close enough. She sat to his left and dug in, famished from battle.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. "That's fine." His sipped his wine in an attempt to wet his suddenly dry mouth. _Alright. Maybe not such a silly thing to go to war over. She is beautiful. And apparently deadly, so I should keep an eye out while she's here._" When you're finished eating, I will show you to your room."

"I'd rather sleep in yours," she said after swallowing some wine. Sheldor's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, incredulous. "Unacceptable. No one is allowed in my room without my express permission, and no one is allowed in my bed period."

Penelope smiled a wolfish smile and Sheldor stared in wonder that a human face could make such an expression. "But Sheldor, you have such a cute tushie."

Heat flushed his face. "I'll have you know I could destroy you in a single word." He meant to sound menacing, but only managed put-out and a little scared.

To Penelope, it seemed Sheldor the Conqueror had little experience "conquering."

"I think I'll be good until breakfast," she said, pushing her plate away and taking one last sip of wine to wash it down. "Now, Sheldor. I think it's time you conquered something a little different tonight." She straddled his lap, easy in his big chair, and grabbed his collar. "And by that I mean I want you to bed me." Her kiss was surprisingly gentle, but firm. It awoke something in him and he kissed her back.

He grabbed her waist and stood, allowing her to stand on her own. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her along to his sleeping quarters. A flick of his wrist and his cloak was hanging on the cape tree by the wardrobe. Another wave of his hand and a blue shimmer appeared for a moment above her womb.

"Contraceptive spell," he explained. "I do not want an heir just yet."

Her only response was to tackle him to the bed.

~*DD*~*DD*~*DD*~

Sheldor was woke the next morning by a carrier pigeon's coo. It wasn't unheard of, but it was unusual for him to get missives via pigeon. He opened the letter and saw it was addressed to Penelope.

"Penelope, dear," he called from the window. "It appears you've a missive from your father."

Silence.

"Oh dear lord," he muttered. "She's a day sleeper as well as a snorer." It had woke him up in the middle of the night and he'd had to silence her. An idea fluttered through his mind. "I'll just have to train her to wake up earlier." _And I know just the way..._

~*DD*~*DD*~*DD*~

"Oh, I could get used to waking up like that," Penelope breathed. "Careful. With an attitude and skill like that you'll never get rid of me."

Sheldor the Conqueror nuzzled his bedmate's luscious blonde curls and sighed in contentment. "Who said I wanted to get rid of you, hm?" He pressed a kiss to her head while she trailed a hand through his sparse chest hair, counter-clockwise of course. He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the message. "Your father sent a message. Seems you've won the war and he wants you to come home to celebrate. That's nice."

"Hm," she snuggled further into him. "I wonder what he'll say when he sees you."

"Me?" he glanced down at her grinning face and his eyes widened. "Oh no, I do not go to celebrations, Penelope. Things tend to burn when I get angry and so many people in one room will inevitably make me angry."

"Well, then, it'll be an interesting celebration."

"Penelope -" he tried, but she ran right over him and sat up, the blanket pooling around her slim waist.

"Sheldor," her tone was commanding and amused and he wondered how she managed that. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. I've decided I like you, and I go after what I like and take it." Then she hammered the final nail in the coffin. "I'll tell you all about my transformation."

Sheldor looked as if she'd dealt him a physical blow. Knowledge of something unknown to the majority of the universe was being held over his head like a carrot leading a horse.

"Oh, you fight dirty," he said. "Fine, I will attend. But," he paused for effect and smirked. "I'm not doing it for the information." He kissed her, and when they broke apart he whispered "I'm doing it for you."

Their eyes locked and Sheldor looked positively mischevious. "And for the scandal, of course."

"What scandal?" Penelope laughed.

"Oh, haven't you heard?" he gasped in an overly dramatic gossip whisper. "The barbarian princess of Angelan eloped with the fearsome Conqueror after they met on the battlefield!"

Her smile widened with every word he spoke until she was laughing so hard she was afraid she would pull a muscle. "Oh did she, sir Conqueror?"

He grinned with her. "Indeed she did, my queen." He lifted her hand from the bed and concentrated, muttering in a language Penelope didn't understand. A gold vine appeared to wrap itself around her third finger. Sheldor smiled at his bride-to-be. "We'll need a witness, of course, and someone to officiate. Lendall should be awake by now, he can bear witness. Do you have any religious beliefs you would like incorporated?"

"None," she said and raised an eyebrow. "But what makes you think I want to elope with you?"

"Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you haven't flown into an outrage at the very thought." A thoughtful look passed his features. "And the probable look on your father's face when you bring home the man you fought just the night before. You seem like the type to enjoy such a sight."

"Not even a full day and you know me so well. You wouldn't happen to be able to read minds, would you?"

He shook his head. "No, but it's something I've been reading up on." He got out of bed and pulled her along. "Come. Let's dress you for a wedding. I rather liked the look of you in my tunic last night, but I hardly think that's wedding material."

* * *

And they lived happily ever after. King Wyte was just happy that his daughter had found someone with a castle and servants.

The unnamed king of Den's Pass went home a loser.

The End.


End file.
